


The Vegetarian Persuasion

by arielchan



Category: Bandom, Cobra Starship
Genre: Cooking School AU, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-17
Updated: 2012-01-17
Packaged: 2017-10-29 16:57:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/322087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arielchan/pseuds/arielchan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Gabe Saporta was officially the worst cook Alex Suarez had ever met. Not just the worst cook he had met who was attending Clandestine Culinary Academy, literally the worst cook in general.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	The Vegetarian Persuasion

Gabe Saporta was officially the worst cook Alex Suarez had ever met. Not just the worst cook he had met who was attending Clandestine Culinary Academy, literally the worst cook in general. That included Alex’s aunt, who at least made a mean Irish coffee, but had spent years eating Kraft maccaroni soup before someone told her that she was meant to drain the water from the pasta before adding the other ingredients.

“Seriously,” Alex said loudly. Ryland, busy figuring out the fingering for “The Sound of Silence” in their living room, pretty much ignored him. “What is he even doing here? Doesn’t he know how hard the rest of us worked to make it into this program? He’s like one of those delusional kids on the first few episodes of American Idol, the ones that think they can sing but are actually so bad that people start to care about them.”

“Are you insinuating that Gabe Saporta is in fact the William Hung of trainee chefs?” Ryland put down his guitar and turned around on the couch to watch Alex take his frustration out on an unfortunate zucchini.

“Yes,” Alex gritted out, sweeping vegetable bits into the skillet next to him with his knife. “I mean, this motherfucker, he’s a vegetarian, right?” Ryland nodded absently and resumed plucking at the strings on his acoustic. He’d had classes with Gabe recently, too. “Apparently he is such a vegetarian he refuses to even touch meat, so he’s failing every assignment that won’t let him use tofu, and he doesn’t even know how to prepare vegetables! Yesterday, he cut the tips off his asparagus, threw them away, and just cooked the butts!”

Ryland snorted, but Alex couldn’t be sure if he was laughing at Gabe’s outrageous failure or the fact that Alex just said “butt”. Sometimes he thought that hanging around with someone he’d known since high school was detrimental to his maturity.

“Obviously,” Ryland said, “the guy’s got something going for him. I mean, he’s pretty fun. Most of the teachers seem to like him in spite of the outrageous shit he pulls sometimes. And, as you said, Clan is pretty exclusive. He had to do something that impressed the panel or he wouldn’t be here.”

Alex knew that. He did. But he couldn’t think of a single thing Gabe had managed to prepare successfully in the entire month he’d been there. “Change of subject,” Alex said, going in and dropping onto the couch by his room mate. “How ridiculously hot is Victoria Asher?”

“Quite ridiculously hot,” Ryland responded. “But not hot enough to burn the cornbread over.” Alex smelled the air, cursed, and went back to the kitchen. “Make me a sandwich while you’re in there, little lady,” Ryland called in an exaggerated Southern drawl.

The next day’s class was a perfect example of what Alex had seen of Gabe Saporta’s so-called skills. Chef Ivarsson was instructing them in the preparation of Belle du Mer soufflé; Gabe’s barely looked edible and was obviously doomed to fall. The chef gave Gabe’s bowl one of the saddest looks ever seen on a teacher, and then patted Alex on the shoulder before leaving the room.

“Pssst. Pssst.” Gabe was hissing at Alex, who pretended he couldn’t hear him over the swish of his own stirring. “Alex!”

He dropped his spoon and turned to face Gabe, frowning. “What? What do you want?”

“Can you give me a hand?”

“Seriously?” Alex hissed.

Gabe put his hands up in supplication. “Dude, I need to pass this shit! I’ll chop all your fucking onions for a week, I swear.”

Alex had to think on that. Gabe wasn’t that bad at slicing vegetables at least. He hadn’t chopped off any digits yet. And Alex did hate onions. “Garlic too,” he finally said, extending his hand to shake on it. “Or no deal.”

Gabe just grinned wide and slapped his hand in acknowledgement.

Alex had barely made it out the door of the class after packing up, fallen soufflé crisis narrowly averted, before he found himself pinned to the wall in the hallway. “Hi, Victoria,” he breathed bare inches away from her face, her arms caging him in against the ridiculous mural of happily smiling cartoon foods in the process of being devoured. “What can I do for you?”

“I saw what you did in there,” Victoria said darkly, moving one arm away to tuck her hair behind her ears. “What do you owe Saporta that prompted that little trick?”

“What trick?” Suarez asked, but when Victoria just rolled her eyes he knew it was better to have it out. “He owes me. He cuts my onions and garlic in all our classes for a week.”

To his surprise, Victoria laughed and leaned back so he was free to move again. “Thank god,” she said. “It’ll be nice to see him doing something himself.”

“What do you mean, exactly?”

“You know that weekly night out you and Ryland never come to?” Alex nodded, and Victoria grinned in response and handed him a bright orange paper flyer. “See that you make it out this time, and you’ll understand why Saporta hasn’t flunked out completely.”

When Alex got home and broke the news that he actually wanted to go out, Ryland was pleased. He’d been trying to make his room mate more social ever since they’d started school. He was less enthusiastic when Alex told him where they were meeting.

“Crowley’s Pub,” Ryland said incredulously. “Seriously, that dive is where they hang out every fucking week?”

“Apparently,” Alex said, straightening his scarf. “I’m not sure what they’re doing other than getting drunk and singing karaoke, but whatever it is it’s keeping that culinary fuck-up in my classes, and I’m going to find out.”

“Yes,” Ryland said. “But why do I have to go?”

“Because,” Alex smiled, and popped Ryland’s coat collar up. “You’re my bitch.”

Crowley’s wasn’t much of a walk from Clandestine Culinary, which was probably why the students had chosen it. None of them had cars, because there just wasn’t much point with the state of parking in downtown Chicago. Alex was surprised when they got inside. He’d always assumed the place was a dive from the warehouse-like exterior, but inside there were plenty of tables of various sizes, chairs, and a couple pool tables. The music coming from an old jukebox in the corner was classic and unobtrusive.

It wasn’t hard to find the Clan students. They’d taken over a large round table a good distance from the bar and had populated it well. Alex immediately recognized Gabe, Victoria, William, and Travis from his and Ryland’s classes, but there were a good handful of younger students who had just started as well.

“Alex! Ryland!” Victoria called, standing up and waving unnecessarily. “You found us! Get your asses over here, and get us some beers on the way.”

He eyed the younger students at the table. Probably not all of them were twenty-one, but hell, they’d gotten in the door. He nodded at Ryland to head to the table without him and swung by the bar to order a couple pitchers of whatever was on special.

When he sat the beer down, William from his pastry class was cutting a deck of cards. “What are we playing?” He slid into the empty chair between Ryland and one of the underclassmen, a spiky-haired kid named Nate.

“Poker,” William drawled. “Just the same as every other week. Texas Hold-Em.”

“Oh,” Alex said. He peeked at Ryland, who shrugged. Yeah, he thought he probably would have known if Ryland was a secret poker fiend. “For money?”

“No,” Victoria said. “You think any of us have any money? You’ll see.”

“Ooooh,” Ryland cooed, waggling his eyebrows at Victoria. “Strip poker?”

She just rolled her eyes. “I’m the only girl at this table. Do you really think I’d play strip poker in a public place if I wasn’t going to win every single hand?”

“I gotta admit,” Gabe threw in with a grin. “I like the way the man thinks.”

“Okay,” Alex interrupted, cutting off any further talk of getting Victoria naked, which could go all night. “So just how do you play Texas Hold-Em?”

William explained the rules carefully while dealing to the table until Travis, probably seeing the looks of confusion they were trying to hide, took pity on them and explained what a good hand was, how to get one, and what to do when you thought you had it.

“First bets!” William cried. The underclassman to his left stood up.

“I’ll write the next essay you have due that’s under a thousand words.”

“I’ll polish and sharpen your knives for tomorrow,” the kid to his left said.

“Gentlemen,” William said. “Please pick up your cards.”

The game carried on throughout the night, fueled by a nonstop supply of beer and the occasional shot, never fully ending until the bar closed down and turned the lights on at 2 AM.

“Savages,” Alex said, blinking. Someone shook him and he looked up to discover he was leaning on little Nate, who was snoozing away on the table. The person who’d roused him hauled him to his feet, and then began lightly slapping Nate’s face. Alex was surprised to discover that person was Gabe.

“C’mon,” Gabe was muttering to the passed out underclassman. “Wakey wakey, Nasty boy. Time for real bed.”

“Saporta? Where’s Ryland?”

“He left like half an hour ago, dumbass,” Gabe said with what sounded like... affection? He’d succeeded in waking Nate up and was helping him get vertical as well. “He’s got to clean The Butcher’s dorm room, so he’s going to need the early start. That shit is rank.”

Before Ryland had really gotten the hang of bluffing, he had lost a hand to the boy named Andy that William and Gabe apparently called The Butcher. He hadn’t won anything after that, but he hadn’t lost either. Alex was somewhere in between as well, no real wins, and his only loss had been to Gabe, who had agreed to let that and their deal from class cancel each other out so they would both be debt-free. Alex didn’t know Gabe that well, but he could sense that he was better off not having to organize the other man’s closet.

Gabe, other than that, had cleaned up. William’s little friend Adam Siska was doing Gabe’s dishes for an entire month due to a close hand that had gone too far, Victoria was committed to doing anything requiring meat in her classes with Gabe for him (which resulted in so many jokes about her handling Gabe’s meat that she threatened to empty a pitcher over the head of the next guy who said it), and Nate was washing all of Gabe’s uniforms for the week.

Those were just the bets that Alex remembered.

He shook off the spinning feeling in his head when he realized the Gabe-person he was busy thinking of was currently busy packing himself into a taxi cab along with Alex and Nate. “Wait,” Alex said. “Wait wait wait. Do you know where we live?”

“Well,” Gabe said. “Nasty Nate here lives with me, so that’s easy. You live somewhere that isn’t with me, so I figured I’d just take you home and tomorrow morning I’ll ask my mom if I can keep you.”

“She’ll probably say no,” Alex sighed. “You know cats lick the butter.”

Gabe laughed and scratched briefly behind Alex’s ear, but before he could lean into the feeling he had taken his hand away to give the cab driver directions to his house. “It’s not that far,” he told Alex, “but you can pass out like Nate if you want to.” Nate drooled on the upholstery.

Gabe’s house was half of a decent-looking duplex in a run down neighborhood. “It’s not much, but it’s home,” he said, swinging the door open, hauling a mostly-limp Nate so that he was draped over his shoulder. “Time to get you down into your basement, cuddle buddy.”

Nate raised his head, and howled, “Slumber party!” Then he pushed off Gabe’s arm and stumbled down the stairs.

Gabe grinned at Alex. “Looks like we’re on babysitting duty tonight. Gotta make sure Jailbait Nate doesn’t drown in his own puke.”

“Awesome.”

Down in the basement, Nate flopped down on an air mattress with sheets already on it that was obviously his. Gabe dug around in some boxes in the corner while Alex stood to the side, shifting awkwardly and waiting. He resurfaced with several thick blankets and pillows and set to making a pallet on the floor. Nate bounced cross-legged on the mattress. Alex was half expecting Gabe’s mom to suddenly come downstairs and offer them cookies and watery fruit punch.

When everything was laid out, Alex sat on the side of the blankets furthest from Nate while Gabe went to turn the lights out. Before he’d even walked back over to the beds, Nate was snoring softly. Alex could barely make out Gabe’s grin beside him in the darkness. “Kid sleeps like a baby when he’s had a few beers.”

“Hey Gabe,” Alex said quietly, lying back on the pallet. “I’ve been wondering something ever since I met you.”

“Shoot.”

“Why the fuck are you in culinary school?”

Gabe’s smile vanished completely into the shadow. “I know. I’m a pretty terrible cook, huh? If you really want to know, I’ll tell you, but try not to get too pissed. And don’t leave.”

“Okay,” Alex said. “I’m listening.”

“I was in this band,” Gabe said. “Back home in Jersey. We were doing alright for ourselves, starting to hit the mainstream a little more, and then the whole thing just fucking blows apart. One day I’m fronting this bad ass little punk band, and then suddenly I’m nothing. So I kind of lost myself for a little while, went on a bender, wandered around.

“One night I’m lying outside, and I see this snake. Huge fucking snake, looks like a king cobra or some shit, all Jungle Book.” He turned to look at Alex again. “This is the part where I remind you that you said you wouldn’t leave.” Not precisely what Alex had said, but he nodded anyway, and Gabe continued. “Then the snake starts talking to me. It tells me, no joke; it’s a snake from the future. And in the future, everyone’s dead. Snakes are the only thing left alive because like, people ripped down all these habitats to farm and then ate the animals and they killed off all these species. So no one is left on Earth except the snakes.”

“People eat snake,” Alex pointed out. “What happened to the people?”

“Um, zombies,” Gabe said, looking away quickly. “I don’t really know.”

“So a talking cobra came to visit you from the future and told you to become a shitty cook?”

“To spread vegetarianism,” Gabe said, spreading his hands out in a gesture so wide that he almost hit Nate in the face. “The cobra told me that it was imperative I go to culinary school so I could start a bad ass vegetarian restaurant. If more people become vegetarians, they won’t eat all the animals and the world won’t end.”

“Uh-huh,” Alex said skeptically. “Then how did you manage to pass your entrance exam? Another poker debt?”

“My bud Mikey used to date the founder.”

Alex saw red. “You got into culinary school because someone else sucked Pete Wentz’s dick?”

“Kind of.”

With that, Alex sat up and began feeling around the blankets for where he’d put his cell phone when he took it out of his pocket, but Gabe grabbed his wrist tightly. “I told you not to go.”

“You’re a cheat,” Alex hissed. “And a crazy one at that. If you’re humanity’s last hope, I want to get the fuck home to my loved ones.”

As Alex tried to stand, Gabe yanked on his arm and, unbalanced, he fell half on top of the other man. “What,” Gabe said, thrusting up slightly against Alex’s hip. “Would you have preferred it if I were the cocksucker?”

“Yes,” Alex responded without thinking, and then Gabe’s hand was buried in his hair. Gabe’s mouth was on his mouth, and Alex simply let go and kissed back. It wasn’t life-changing. The earth didn’t move. There were no violins. But something about Gabe tasted like neon and electricity, and Alex instrinctively moved in closer, chasing it through the flavor of cheap beer.

He was still on top of Gabe, moving into a better position with more contact. The blankets were bunching up under his feet. His knee scraped down onto a hard lump shaped suspiciously like his cell phone. His hands were between them, resting on Gabe’s waist, running up his sides to his chest, and then, suddenly, pushing him away. He dug through the blankets and grabbed his phone, leaning back away from Gabe’s grasping hands. “Fuck this,” he said. “Fuck this, and fuck you.”

“Trying,” Gabe said, but Alex was already up, scrambling up the basement steps to get to the door.

He probably overpaid his cab driver, but he got home and into bed. Exhausted and drunk in every way, he collapsed and slept uninterrupted until he woke up to a painful blast of sunshine across his closed eyes.

“Arrrrggghh!”

“Oh good,” Ryland’s voice next to his bed was no less painful than the sunlight. “You woke up just in time for class.”

“Urghle.”

“I made breakfast,” Ryland continued, “but we drank the last of the coffee. Get up and you might have time to buy a Red Bull without being too late.”

With a sigh, Alex rolled out of bed. He looked down to find he was still in his shirt and pants from the night before, so he decided to go with it and went into the bathroom to comb his hair.

Victoria was in his usual chair at the dinner table.

She was drinking what smelled like the last of the coffee.

“What are you doing here?”

“I just thought I’d come check on you. Maybe walk you to our class,” she said. “I’m a good friend like that.”

Alex squinted at her. “Is that Ryland’s shirt?”

Victoria smirked, but didn’t answer the question.

Ryland was in the kitchen waiting with a glass of water, two Advil, and a piece of toast. “Thank you. Someone opened my curtains and now my brain is trying to hide in the dark corners of my skull.”

“Good thing there’s plenty of room.”

Alex pointed toward the kitchen door and, more importantly, what lay outside it. “Seriously?”

“Man, you were so busy eyeing Saporta you didn’t even see us leave. I shoulda known all your bitching was just pulling pigtails.” Ryland grinned and bumped his shoulder. “How was your night?”

“Gabe Saporta got into Clandestine because someone he knows used to fuck Wentz. And now he wants to use the power of his cooking to save the world. Also, that kid Nate lives in his basement.”

“Your boyfriend is a winner,” Ryland said.

“Alex,” Victoria called from the other room. “If you two are done painting each other’s nails and trading first kiss stories, we need to get to class. I’m not kissing Ivarsson’s ass for you just because I got some.”

“Damn,” Alex said, grabbing his toast and heading for the door. “We didn’t even get to the kinky shit yet.”

If Alex was being honest with himself, he would admit that he forgot to set his alarm for this class on purpose. The wrath of Chef Ivarsson was a terrifying thing, but no more terrifying than the fact that he had the class with Gabe.

Gabe, who cheated to get into the school. Gabe, who was now cheating his way through school by playing illegal poker with underage kids. Gabe, who had kissed him last night, and made Alex enjoy every moment of it.

If Alex was being honest with himself, he would realize that he had been pulling pigtails.

But he wasn’t.

In the end, his nerves were baseless. Gabe didn’t show up for class. Alex kept waiting for him to stumble in, late and hung over, in order to take full advantage of the fact that they were making chicken cordon bleu which, being as it involved two kinds of meat, Victoria would have actually been making for him.

But the only sign of Gabe was the empty silence after the intimidatingly tiny Ivarsson asked if anyone knew where he was.

So Alex could not have been more surprised when he opened the classroom door to find Gabe lurking in the hallway, apparently just waiting to grab him. “What the fuck? How long were you out here? You missed the whole fucking class!”

“I quit,” Gabe said, grinning. He was wearing a plastic pendant around his neck with a picture of Alton Brown in it. If he pushed his fingertips just a little harder into Alex’s bicep, he’d be leaving marks.

Alex tried to pull away anyway. “Quit? What do you mean, quit?”

“I had a dream last night,” Gabe said. “After you left I woke Nate up for a couple more shots, and then when I went to bed the Cobra came to me in a dream.”

“You know, most drunk people just throw up and get it over with.”

“I got it so wrong, Alex,” Gabe was continuing, paying no mind to the person he was talking to. “I’m not a chef, you are!”

“Look,” Alex said. “I know I kind of told you that you were terrible, but with enough work now that you’re here you could still be decent. And you should stay in school. Think of the example you’re setting for Nate.”

“You don’t get it,” Gabe said. “It’s okay, I didn’t either. The Cobra told me to come here and then to start a restaurant where the vegetarian cuisine would convert everyone who ate it, but it never said I had to cook! I was supposed to come here so I could meet you.”

“Me?” Alex finally succeeded in getting his arm out of Gabe’s grip, but found he no longer wanted to run away screaming. He was intrigued in spite of himself.

“You,” Gabe was saying, smiling again. “Well, you and Ryland and Victoria and Nate, and maybe some of the others too. But mostly you.”

“Where do I fit in with your destiny?”

“Everywhere,” Gabe said, grabbing him again by both shoulders. “Alejandro Francisco Suarez, will you save the world with me?”

“I still think your Cobra is bullshit,” he said. “And probably a sign that you’re mentally unstable. And I don’t know where the fuck you learned my middle name, you fucking stalker.”

“Okay,” Gabe said. He pulled Alex forward and kissed him again, kissed him until Alex leaned into it, until his hand had slipped under his shirt and found skin and all Alex could think about was wanting more.

Down the hallway, Ryland whistled at them. Victoria, her hand in his, yelled “Get a room!”

They broke apart, but Gabe didn’t let go. “I think I can convince you,” he said. “How about we dicuss it over tacos?”

“Alright,” Alex said. “But I’m cooking. You really do suck.”

“Only,” Gabe smiled, “if you want to skip to dessert.”

Apparently not all of Gabe’s plans were so terrible after all.


End file.
